


Silence Kept

by FirePony16



Series: The Soldier's Journey [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate ending to CA:TWS, Captain America: The Winter Soldier alternate ending, Gen, small changes at first and then expands, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6344854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirePony16/pseuds/FirePony16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Bucky hadn’t attacked the Tech after the mission on the causeway? What if Bucky had kept his silence? What if he had not said “<em>I knew him</em>”? What if he hadn’t been wiped before the battle over the Potomac?</p><p>Alternate ending to CA: TWS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence Kept

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by the wonderful Elioma.
> 
> Will be cross-posted on ff.net under same name.

The Winter Soldier was not bothered by the chilliness of the bank vault. He wasn’t bother by the technician working to repair his prosthetic arm. He didn’t move or say anything. His mind wasn’t focused in the present but the past, the scene from the causeway, the man from the bridge.

Other flashes appeared in his head-

A thin sickly boy who had a smile as bright as the sun and the most caring heart.

Bloodied snow and an endless fall.

A metal limb born from the pain of his missing arm.

A small man with round glasses with a familiar cruel grin.

 _Something is not right,_ he thought.

But he didn’t move. Weapons didn’t react to things they didn't understand. Instead he dug deeper into his own head. Trying to put the mismatched pieces together, assess the errors in his head.

A slap from the commander snapped the Soldier back to the present.  He vaguely recalled being ordered to report.

“The man on the bridge,” the Soldier started to ask, voice rough and low, despite the trouble he could be in for asking, “Who was he?”

The Soldier watched the Commander lean back; the older man’s dark eyes regarded him with a calculating intensity. The Soldier’s own unease almost caused him to shiver.

“You met him from an earlier assignment.” The answer was short and vague. It didn't explain the images in his head, the growing feeling that something was amiss. It didn’t explain the strong sense of familiarity that the presence that the man from the bridge gave the Soldier.

 _Bucky?_ That was what the man had called him, but names had long since been stripped from the Soldier.

 _I knew him_ , the words danced at the Soldier’s lips but he kept his silence. He didn’t speak out of turn again. He nodded his understanding and kept his eyes trained on the floor tiles. Maybe he had worked with the man from the bridge a long time ago. And now they had landed on opposite sides. The Soldier has had other masters before.

“Prep him for the new mission,” the commander ordered as he stood.

And then one timid scientist stepped forward, “He’s been out of cryo-freeze too long, it’s been highly recommended that he be wiped soon.”

Cold dread sunk deep in the Soldier’s gut; he didn’t understand his sudden fear. Weapons didn’t fear.

“We _don’t_ have time to wipe him _and_ start all over again. _Prepare_ him for the next mission.”

The scientists and technicians flinched back and the Commander, the strike team at his heels, stormed out.

The Soldier shivered. He didn’t know what ‘ _wipe him’_ meant and he didn’t want to ever know. He would have to be careful; he could not fail his mission again.

-

The Winter Soldier cleared his own path to the helicarriers with vigor. The mission objective was clear in his head. Eliminate anyone who wanted to stop Project Insight from succeeding. Eliminate the SHIELD operatives from the causeway, the traitors.

He had been shown pictures of them and given code names for his main targets (the Captain, the Spy, and the Flyer). The Soldier's curiosity of the Captain remained. Yet, he received no other information about the blond-haired man other than that he was the biggest threat.

When the Soldier waited in the shadows atop the third helicarrier for his target; he had his guns ready in his hands. And when he saw them land, he emerged like a prowling lion.

The man with the metal wings noticed the Soldier first, literally leaping into action at the sight of him. Up into the air the man soared, guns out and firing.

The Captain was immobile, only able to watch as the Flyer and the Soldier exchanged shots at each other.

The Soldier gained the upper hand quickly by tearing the flying man down like a kite by ripping off one of the metal wings with a grappling hook. The winged man fell and slipped unbalanced down the side of the carrier.

“No! Sam!” The man from the bridge shouted before leaping after his companion.

“Steve! Don’t!” the Flyer shouted as he fell.

 _Steve,_ the Soldier thought with his head tilted in heightened curiosity. It was familiar but the Soldier didn’t know why. The feeling of something amiss was growing slowly. He was still unable to figure out what it was.

The Winter Soldier watched with interest from over the edge of the carrier as the Captain held his one-winged companion from falling further. Something about the situation was familiar; it stirred something in his head.

Fear?

Pain?

_Blood-red snow._

“Let go Steve, you’re gonna slide off too. I got a chute; I’ll be okay, man.”

The Soldier watched the blond-haired man nod with great reluctance before he let go. The one-winged man resumed his fall; he rid himself of his last metal wing before activating his parachute. The Flyer was no longer a threat having been grounded but the man from the bridge, still on the carrier, was.

-

The Soldier waited, exposed in the open space but ready. He didn’t have any of his guns or knives out but he was still dangerous. He was also curious. He wanted to understand the growing number of mismatched pieces being unearthed in his head. How did they all fit together? Did the man from the bridge have the answers? Could be he trusted to tell the Soldier the truth?

The Captain paused several paces in front of him. The Soldier kept his stance relaxed and still; waiting to see if the man would continue forward.

But his curiosity and the need to know was becoming overwhelming, “You’re the man from the bridge.”

The man’s breath stilled for a moment before he nodded, familiar blue eyes shining with hope.

 _I knew you_ ; the words were just under the Soldier’s breath, just a moment away from being spoken aloud.

“Who is Bucky?” the Winter Soldier asked instead.

“You are,” the man answered possibly sincere but his expression was hidden by the blue helmet, “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You’re my best friend.”

But the Captain couldn’t be right. The Soldier didn’t have a human name, didn’t have friends. The man was a high-level threat to the mission, to be eliminated.

The man stepped forward and the Soldier shifted into a defensive stance, one hand resting on the hilt of a knife.

“People are going to die, Buck,” the man said, eyeing the control panels behind the Soldier, “I can’t let that happen.”

_Wipe him._

_White-blinding pain._

But the Soldier could not fail again, whether this man had once been a friend or not. He could not disobey his orders.

“You’re my mission,” the Winter Soldier replied before swallowing his regret and lunged.

-

The more the two fought, the more irritated the Soldier got.

Again and again, he tried to take down the target, the man from the bridge.

Again and again, the blond-haired man just stood back up. _I could do this all_ _day_ , the phrase just floated up from the depths of his mind.

The mismatched pieces had become a whirlwind of chaos in the Soldier’s head. The feeling of something amiss had grown stronger. What that something was the Soldier still did not understand.

When the Captain completed his own mission; the Soldier’s rage bubbled over into irrationality. He didn’t hide his terror when he became trapped under pieces of the crumbing helicarrier nor did he hide his confusion when the Captain saved him.

“You’re my mission,” growled the Soldier, his voice laced with pain and fear. He didn’t understand why it now felt wrong to fight the blond-haired man. But the Soldier feared what would happen when he returned to the Commander with his mission so utterly failed. He had to eliminate his target. There was no other choice.

“You know me,” a plea as the Captain removed his helmet and tossed it aside. There was blood on his face and his blond hair disheveled and sweaty. 

For one moment, a younger thinner man with similar facial features and wounds stood before him. His clothes were too big for his small frame and his blue eyes as bright as the sun.

 _Steve_?

But in a blink, the man from the bridge was back standing before him.

The Soldier tackled him.

“I don’t,” he growled before he punched the Captain several times in the face. The Winter Soldier was a weapon and weapons didn’t have names or friends. He was not allowed to. He couldn't fail. 

“I’m not going to fight you,” was the weak reply, the man looked resigned to his fate. The Soldier prepared to punch again, before-

“Coz I’m with you til the end of the line.”

The world fell from beneath the Soldier.

-

The Winter Soldier dragged the man from the bridge onto the shore of the Potomac River. The Captain was unconscious but still alive, his breathing shallow and weak.

The Soldier's mind was silent while the world around him was filled with billowing smoke and distant sirens.

He sank to his knees beside the blond-haired man. The mud and cold water re-soaking the Soldier went unnoticed. His flesh hand checked the unconscious man’s pulse, like a long-forgotten habit from a time the Soldier still didn't remember. The feeling of something amiss (he realized now that it had been caused by fighting the man from the bridge) had transformed into strange protectiveness for the Captain.

The Soldier didn't understand the protectiveness for the man lying on the muddy bank but it felt as right as the beat of his own heart.

The mismatched pieces were still a mess in his head but the misunderstanding was dissipating like a smoke from a dying fire.

The Soldier’s old mission was failed, done with. He could not go back; he refused return to Hydra’s hands.

He decided he would find out for himself who Bucky was and why this man, _Steve,_ was so familiar. It would be the Soldier’s new mission along with guarding the wounded man until the Captain’s allies arrived to help.

He could keep his vigil before he left to find the truth. Even after he left the Captain's side, he decided he would keep close and guard the man’s back from a distance. Just until the Soldier found all the answers to the puzzle in his head.

The abrupt sound of a helicopter hovering nearby drew the Soldier from his thoughts. He was torn between staying to protect the wounded man and bolting, fearing it to be Hydra. The protectiveness kept him at the downed Captain's side.

The Soldier shielded the unconscious man by blocking some of the wind and kicked-up debris from the approaching copter with his body. It stopped a few yards away. The Soldier could make out a woman with brilliant red hair and a familiar dark man though a missing door. That was when the familiar man climbed out of the hovering copter with a rope-ladder. It was the winged man from the helicarrier, the Captain’s companion. The once-winged man landed on the ground with a thunk before rushing over.

The Soldier tensed, pulling out his last knife with his metal hand. He was ready to fight, to protect with the last of his strength.

The Flyer skidded to a halt a few feet away, a med-kit half pulled out of his pack. He raised his hands, the kit still in one hand. The Soldier watched him take a deep breath and slowly continue forward.

“Easy, man,” the Flyer said, “Not here to fight you. Please, let me help Steve.”

The Soldier glared, flashing his knife like a dog baring its fangs in warning. He kept his injured right arm tucked close to his chest.

“It’s okay, Barnes,” the man said reassuringly, holding eye contact with the Soldier. _Barnes,_ that name again. If the man from the bridge trusted him, the Soldier must be able to as well, right?

The Soldier looked away the Flyer and down at the man still unconscious on the riverbank. The blond-haired man’s wounds were still leaking blood. He needed medical attention that was above the Soldier’s skills. The grip on his last knife loosened before the Soldier flipped the knife in the air holding the handle towards the man who had once had wings. The other man flinched, watching him wearily.

“Protect him,” the Soldier said.

The Flyer stared in disbelief before he nodded and gingerly took the knife from the Soldier.

The once winged man began assessing the blond-haired man’s wounds.

“Hold on, Steve,” the Flyer half-muttered to himself. The Soldier stood unnoticed and started to limp away to the tree line.

As he stepped into the dense cover of vegetation, he heard the winged man whisper “You were right, Steve, he is the kind you save.”

The Soldier paused for a moment, watching as the once-winged man pulled out a phone to call for backup. 

 _I'll return_ , he vowed. He’d be back to stand by the man from the bridge’s side after the puzzle in his head was more complete.

END

**Author's Note:**

> If you all have any prompts/ideas for this verse, feel free to let me know :)


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